


A Warm Place

by Barkour



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barkour/pseuds/Barkour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Astrid and Hiccup cuddle together for warmth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warm Place

**Author's Note:**

> Kinkmeme fill, for [this prompt](http://httyd-kink-meme.livejournal.com/388.html?thread=94852). Finally de-anoning!

The wind whipped snarling down the peaks; with it came the first heavy snow of the season. Berk remained.

Astrid stoked the fire so the flames spun high, eating at themselves. Toothless, nesting by the fire, hummed at her and Bibi at his back trilled, her bird's eyes narrowed against the light. Astrid scritched her eye ridge, and Bibi twittered her pleasure, leaning into Astrid's hand. The shivering firelight shone brilliant and blue off her scales.

"Come on, come on," Hiccup chanted. "Before you freeze to death." He huddled beneath the furs, thrown in thick layers.

She smiled, softening at the look of him. "Don't you mean, before you freeze to death? You're the scrawny one."

"I'm streamlined, thank you," he groused. "Not like the rest of you meaty chest-thumpers."

"Well, scoot over," she said, setting the poker aside. "This chest-thumper's coming in."

He wriggled, kicking the furs up. Astrid dove in. She threw her arms about him and stuffed her hands down the back of his loosed shirt.

"Augh!" said Hiccup. "Don't do that! Your hands are like ice!"

Astrid rubbed her chilled nose in his throat. She sighed, happy. "You know, for a scrawny guy, you're really warm." 

"It's like, you brought winter in with you," he said. "I'm freezing right now, because you're so cold."

"Stop squirming, you baby," she said. She slipped her thigh between his legs and brought the other up outside, pinning his leg between her own. His prosthesis glinted, propped against the near wall.

"Fine, all right," he said, "you win. My body heat is yours. Take of it as you will."

She pecked him lightly on the lips. "I already am." She wriggled her chilly fingers down his shoulders, luxuriating in the hot prickling of returning sensation.

Hiccup pressed against her. His eyes flickered beneath his downcast lashes. "Areas most likely to be afflicted with frostbite include the nose and lips," he said.

Astrid snorted a laugh. "You can just kiss me," she said. "You don't have to explain it."

"I just thought you should know," he said. "Frostbite is the second leading cause for finger- and toe-loss in the Viking community."

"And the leading cause would be?" She kissed him again, long and sweet. She pulled at his lower lip.

"Failure to observe proper safety procedure in the kitchen," he told her, then he kissed her, his breath shivering warm against her tongue. 

She wound her arms more tightly about him, and Hiccup slid his hand up the long stretch of her thigh. Languid and easy, they kissed beneath the furs, wrapped about each other as winter clawed at the walls and Bibi chittered to Toothless, dozing now in the warmth of the fire. 

Astrid rolled her tongue along his palate. Delicately, she scraped her fingernails up his nape. Hiccup shifted, hardening against her thigh. His fingers flexed high on her thigh, digging into the muscle then relaxing.

She stroked his warm, warm neck and bit his warm, warm lip, and she whispered, "Take off your shirt."

"It's too hot out for clothes anyway," he said, breathless.

He stripped out of his shirt and she out of hers, shucking the layers between her skin and his. Hiccup trailed tiny biting kisses down her throat as she slithered out of her trousers. A length of wood in the fire snapped, sending up a shower of heat.

Astrid ghosted her fingers down his side, tracing the lean muscle laid on his bones and the small, smooth scars of old burns. She nipped his chin.

"Ow, ow," he said, "that hurt, you vampire."

"Sorry," she said. "I'll be more gentle." She nipped him again.

He sighed, as if struck. "I didn't say I didn't like it," he said.

She flicked her tongue over his chin, the tiny hairs there rough on her tongue. Hiccup turned his hand over on her thigh, moving to the inside. She slid her leg up, her knee nudging his hip. 

"Not cold down there," he noted. He stroked a finger between the soft folds, slicked.

She licked the tip of his nose, then bit it. He crossed his eyes at her. His nose wrinkled. Astrid laughed.

"Lucky for you," she said. She rolled her hips toward him, pressing against his hand and his clever, warm fingers. "Now stop talking. You're a Viking, remember?"

"Vikings talk," he said, "I'm a Viking, you're a Viking, we're both talking."

"Shut up," she said.

She kissed him hard once, and in surrendering, he slid a finger smooth and gentle into her, then slid another in to join it. Astrid spattered kisses across his cheeks, following the freckles thrown like dark stars on his skin. He crooked his fingers and stroked once, twice, again and again, his thumb passing clumsily over her clitoris. She tightened about his fingers. 

Without, the wind shivered. Bibi snuffled in sleep, and Toothless breathed out, deep in his own draconian dreams. Hiccup nuzzled Astrid's jaw, and she hooked her legs together behind his knee. Heat bubbled low in her belly. 

Astrid sighed, and threading her fingers through his hair, she kissed his ear, his earlobe, the delicate joint of his jaw behind his ear. "Come on," she huffed. She rubbed her thigh against his penis, hard and long between them.

He groaned, stuttering her name. She flexed about his fingers, then hitched her hips back, drawing away from him. His fingers popped free. The furs shifted, heavy upon them, as she set her hand on his chest and pushed him flat upon his back. Astrid rose above him.

"Astrid," he said. "Astrid." He stroked her jaw, his fingers slicking down to her throat. His eyes shone, dark and green, half-lidded.

She traced his shaft, took him in hand and steadied him, and down she slid, swallowing his cock within her. Hiccup gasped, arching. His head fell back in the furs beneath them, his long, freckled throat bowing. 

Astrid ground down, snapping her hips against him. Heat filled her, thrumming along her skin even as the furs slid from her shoulders. She rode him, rocked as he rose beneath her: cresting, ebbing. The wind shook, and Astrid shook, and Hiccup, too, beneath her and within her.

"Astrid," he said. He clasped her hip, pulling her down to him. He mouthed her clavicle, tongue flashing between his teeth.

Astrid smoothed her hand over his chest, her fingernails digging into his breast in a half-circle around his thumping heart. She loved him. She did. The thought swelled inside her; it licked hot and sweet up her spine.

She tucked her head and kissed him, breathing the words into his mouth, and holding him close to her breast, she closed her eyes and came against him. She rolled her hips, trembling with the force of it, and Hiccup said, "Astrid," into her mouth and followed her down. 

The fire popped, crackling in its bones. Astrid turned, kissing the soft hollow of his throat. He ran his hand up her back, following her spine to her shoulder.

"You're warm," he said, curling about her.

Astrid smiled against his jaw. Hooking the scattered furs, she tugged them up and over her head and his, cutting off the roar of the wind and the hum of winter far outside their warm and quiet nest.


End file.
